


Offensive Mornings

by Hatteress (goddammitstacey)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, tumblr comment fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddammitstacey/pseuds/Hatteress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Violent, clutching and <em>debilitating</em> had basically been their forte. Still is sometimes, particularly on the days one or the other of them has a close shave with death. But—and here's the thing Stiles doesn't think he'll ever get over—it's not all they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Offensive Mornings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zosofi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zosofi/gifts).



> This is a teeeeeny comment fic inspired by [this glorious piece of gif art](http://hatteress.tumblr.com/post/46235506388/zowrites-imshakingyourconfidencedaily-there) by [imshakingyourconfidencedaily](http://imshakingyourconfidencedaily.tumblr.com) on tumblr and the [beautiful piece of fic](http://zowrites.tumblr.com/post/46293891818/so-like-an-idiot-i-deleted-the-original-drabble) [Zosofi](http://zowrites.tumblr.com) added to it before me.

When they'd fallen into this thing, Stiles'd had some very clear ideas about how it was gonna go. Ideas that mostly involved walls, growling, desperation and biting kink – oh god yes, _all_  the biting kink.

And—for the most part—that's what he got.

In the early days, he'd been hiked up so many walls, Stiles is still surprised he hadn't developed permanent indentations in his thighs from where they'd been so often clutched around Derek's hips.

There was a six month period where the Camaro's paint job had been more familiar to him than the roof of his own goddamn bedroom, for the simple fact that when Derek had wanted to bend him over something, the hood of the car was usually the closest surface at the right height (Stiles is still waiting for the day he no longer associates freaking _windscreen wipers_ with the feel of Derek rimming him out, hard and desperate on the side of the road).

Violent, clutching and _debilitating_ had basically been their forte. Still is sometimes, particularly on the days one or the other of them has a close shave with death. But—and here's the thing Stiles doesn't think he'll ever get over—it's not all they are.

Sometimes they're like this – sleep addled touches and brushes of skin. Derek sighing against him as Stiles slips easily between his thighs, letting their skin move together in one slow, lazy drag.

Derek hums as Stiles licks over his bottom lip. "Time is it?"

"Seven," Stiles says, pressing the word into the corner of Derek's mouth. Derek's knuckles trail up Stiles' arm, thumb swiping out every now and then to brush over the line of moles that dots haphazardly from Stiles' elbow to his shoulder.

Stiles used to ignore the damn things – pretend he isn't one giant human game of connect the dots but under Derek's hands he can't. Under Derek's hands, he kinda doesn't want to. Because Derek's always seeking them out – brushing and pressing like Stiles is a freaking stradivarius or something and his moles are the sheet music. It's kinda embarrassing but mostly just awesome how much Stiles enjoys the rhythm of it.

"We should get up," Derek says, even as he shifts, lifting his thigh a little so Stiles can settle more fully against him.

Stiles huffs a laugh against Derek's cheek. He's been nosing up Derek's jawline, cataloguing the feel of stubble versus the smooth dip of skin behind Derek's ear. "Fuck that," he says. "I vote disgustingly slow morning sex."

"Disgustingly slow," Derek says, like he's not already one hundred-and-ten percent on board, the faker. Stiles rocks them lazily together and grins when Derek's breath catches.  _There_ we go. 

"Yep," Stiles breathes. "I want to be offended at how long it takes us."

Derek smooths his palm  up Stiles' spine in a way that makes Stiles want to purr a little.  "Good thing you're easily offended," Derek says, hooking one foot up over Stiles' hip.

Stiles grins, pressing a kiss to Derek's neck. "I take offense to that."

**Author's Note:**

> Join zee madness on [Tumblr](http://hatteress.tumblr.com)!


End file.
